Chapter Text
“Wow, the waves were great today,” Daisy says as she and Lincoln trek across the beach. Their hair is wet, they’re covered in sand, and they’ve spent all day in the water. Some of that was just being dumb and splashing water on each other, but most of it was on their boards.
“I wish it could be summer all the time,” Lincoln says. “I wanna spend every day surfing with you.” He somehow manages to look both moody and wistful at the same time.
“Totally,” Daisy agrees. “I’m so glad we’re best friends. I can’t imagine a better surfing buddy than you.”
Lincoln slips into sullen silence for a minute, which Daisy ignores, and then he says, “Let’s get food. You think Jeffrey has anything good?”
“There’s definitely leftover homemade pizza from last night. And we might be able to con him into ordering takeout for dinner.” Daisy grins. “C’mon, let’s go.” She starts jogging, forcing Lincoln to keep up.
When they arrive at Daisy’s house, her foster dad Jeffrey is nowhere to be seen - not in the kitchen or the living room. “Hello?” Daisy calls, until she finally gets to the room Jeffrey calls his “office” (it isn’t, it’s basically just his excuse to have a space to goof off in). The lights are dimmed and he has the TV on. “Oh, there you are.”
“Hey, kiddos,” Jeffrey says cheerfully. “You wanna watch with me? I was thinking about making some virgin piña coladas too, if you want them.” He smiles. It didn’t take him long to figure out that as far as Daisy was concerned, being the fun dad was much more effective.
“What is it?” Daisy asks, but before Jeffrey can answer Lincoln yelps “Wet Side Story!”
Daisy sighs. “Oh god, not again.”
“Yes again!” Lincoln plops down on the floor, staring raptly at the TV. “I’m so glad you agree this is the best movie ever made, Mr. Mace.”
“You know you can call me Jeffrey,” chuckles Jeffrey. “You’re practically part of the family.”
This isn’t incorrect, muses Daisy. She and Lincoln became best friends pretty much immediately, when she arrived on the island four years ago, and they’ve been inseparable ever since. Jeffrey happily accepted him as a bonus kid, and has never complained about needing to make enough food to feed two teenagers five nights out of the week. Still, she can’t believe the two of them are so preoccupied with this stupid movie.
“Okay, I know you guys have shown me this movie before, but I seriously don’t get it,” she says, once there’s a lull in the songs. “Why do you like it so much?”
“Because it’s so fun!” Lincoln says. “It’s always summer, and always sunny, and Jemma and Fitz always fall in love and unite the bikers and surfers to save their beach. It’s a classic story of true love conquers all!”
“And the tunes are pretty rockin’, too,” Jeffrey adds, smirking like he knows he’s being a dork. “It just seems like a fun place to be.”
Daisy rolls her eyes fondly. “You guys are both huge dorks, you know that?”
“Never said I wasn’t,” says Lincoln, grinning, “C’mon, just watch a little with us? Pleeeeeease?” He gives her his best pleading face.
“I should make those drinks first,” Jeffrey says, standing up and heading toward the kitchen. Not two seconds after that, though, the phone starts ringing and he has to hurry across the room to pick it up. “Hello?” He’s quiet a minute, then he holds up his hand and says, “I’ll be right back, you two.”
Lincoln frowns. “What was that about?”
Daisy shrugs. “I dunno what he gets up to. Something to do with work, maybe.”
Ten minutes later, Jeffrey comes back into the room holding the phone and making a face. “That was the nuns,” he says to Daisy.
Daisy stiffens. “Aw, crap.”
“Wait, what?” Lincoln glances between Daisy and Jeffrey, frowning. “What nuns? What’s going on?”
“I don’t know if it’s my place to say,” Jeffrey sighs. “I’ll go make those drinks and be right back.”
“Daisy?” Lincoln asks.
Daisy’s quiet for a long moment. Then she says, “I... I have something to tell you.”
“Well, yeah, duh,” Lincoln says, frowning.
“So... I don’t know a lot about my birth parents, but I know that my mom didn’t have much of an education, and my dad had a PhD or something. I have a letter they wrote to me about how they wanted me to grow up with every opportunity and stuff. Anyway, then a month ago we got a phone call from some private Catholic academy or something in Milwaukee saying I’d won a full ride scholarship. And... and I guess it’s a really good school and stuff.” Daisy hangs her head. “Jeffrey thinks I should take it.”
“Well I don’t!” Lincoln yelps. “You’re supposed to stay here so we can surf together!”
Shrugging, Daisy says, “I know,” really quietly. She can’t bring herself to look him in the eye. “But this is what my parents would’ve wanted, I think, and orientation or whatever starts next week so we’re supposed to fly out there then if I decide I want to go, and…”
“No!” protests Lincoln, standing up. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“I don’t know, I just… I didn’t know how, and I’m not even sure if I want to go, but I don’t want to let my parents down…”
Lincoln shakes his head. “I gotta go.” He storms out.
“Are you sure you wanna do this, Daisy?” Jeffrey asks softly, trying not to make a face.
She nods, clutching her board in determination. “Yes. I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna surf the forty-foot wave.”
“I don’t need to remind you to be careful,” he says, even though that’s in and of itself a reminder.
“Ew,” Daisy says, cuffing him lightly on the arm. “Don’t get all parenty on me. I know, I know. I’ll come back in one piece.”
“I’d hope you’d tell me the same thing,” he exclaims in mock-defense. “Waves like this are great, but they’re no joke.”
“Okay, you’re starting to sound like an after-school special now.” Daisy gives him a quick hug. “I’ll be careful.”
A crowd starts to form to watch the daredevil surfers who are going to try the wave - it’s something of a legend on the island. Daisy gives Jeffrey a salute and heads for the water. Just as she’s starting to paddle in, Lincoln appears, looking worried. “Do you really think she’s going to do it?”
“You know Daisy,” Jeffrey shrugs. “You can’t talk her out of something once she puts her mind to it.”
Lincoln sighs. “Yeah, I know. And she’s a great surfer, I just…”
“You just?”
“Dunno.” Lincoln scuffs the ground with his toe. “I don’t want anything to happen to her.”
“She knows how to keep herself safe out there,” Jeffrey points out. “Are you sure that’s it?” He himself is pretty sure it isn’t.
Lincoln is quiet for awhile. Then he mutters, “No.”
“Am I supposed to encourage you to go get her?” Jeffrey asks.
“What is this, Wet Side Story?” quips Lincoln. Then he frowns. “Hey, do you think she’s doing okay? It’s getting pretty wild out there.”
“These aren’t the best conditions I’ve ever seen,” Jeffrey agrees mildly.
The others on the beach seem to agree, given that in minutes the groups break out murmuring, then saying, then exclaiming about how the waves are getting too rough, too wild, and too dangerous. Daisy’s still surfing, apparently oblivious to everyone else’s concerns. “Uh,” Lincoln says, “I don’t think she can hear us.”
“Yikes,” Jeffrey winces.
“I’m going after her,” Lincoln says, sprinting towards the area of the beach where the rental jetskis are parked. He’s driven one of those a hundred times, he knows the owner personally, it’s an emergency - it’ll be fine.
“Don’t you be unsafe either,” Jeffrey says.
Lincoln waves to show he’s heard him, and then starts out after Daisy. It’s easier said than done - he’s been out during some pretty rough weather, but this is really next-level. He manages to get close enough to her to yell, “Daisy!”
Daisy doesn’t seem to hear him, so he calls her name again. “Daisy!”
Finally, she turns to look at him, which apparently is enough to break her concentration just enough that she tips off the board into the water. He yells and tries to get closer, but just then the wind picks up and the waves get even choppier, and the next thing he knows he’s going underwater too.
They’re both strong swimmers, so it’s not even thirty seconds before their heads both pop up above the water. “Lincoln!” Daisy yells, spitting water. “Why did you do that?”
Lincoln blinks. “You mean go after you to save your life? I was worried, it was getting really dangerous!”
“Dude, I had it under control. How could -” Daisy pauses. “Wait. Why is it sunny?”
They look around. There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the sun is beaming down on them. “I don’t know, but I like it,” Lincoln says, grinning.
“But it was just -” Daisy freezes, looking back at the shore. “That’s not our beach. That’s not our beach.”
“What?” Lincoln turns around to look. “Woah. That’s so weird.”
The beach isn’t at all the familiar, comforting island beach with lifeguard towers and a rocky outcrop and tourist families frolicking. This beach is covered in teenagers. Teenagers that seem to be doing some kind of choreographed dance with surfboards and beach balls.
“What,” Daisy deadpans.
Lincoln is already paddling towards shore. “C’mon!” he calls back. “They look fun!”
“They look ridiculous,” sighs Daisy, but she grabs her board (which is floating merrily nearby) and follows him.
They reach the beach just in time to make out the tail end of the song.
During which the teenagers are lined up and apparently doing a roll call?
“I’m Callie!” shouts a tan girl with curly brown hair and a bikini that matches her blue eyes.
“I’m Trip!” says a dark-skinned black boy wearing bright blue swim trunks.
“I’m Kara!” declares a dark-haired girl with glowing skin and a purple one-piece.
“I’m Deke!” says a completely unremarkable white boy wearing ugly green plaid trunks.
“Red!” croons a tall girl with, unsurprisingly, both red (orange) hair and a red (red) bikini.
“Davy!” says a blond boy wearing a pair of swim trunks the color of denim.
“Abby!” chirps a tiny brunette girl wearing an orange, polka-dotted, and ruffled swimsuit.
“Sonny!” calls a tall brunette boy wearing beige-orange-blue-striped shorts.
“I’m Crystal!” shouts a blonde girl wearing a yellow paisley one-piece with a belt. She’s also, confusingly, accompanied by a giant bulldog, who takes this opportunity to bark rhythmically.
“And I’m Fitz!” says a skinny white boy with curly hair and turquoise shorts.
“And I’m Lincoln!” Lincoln yelps, jumping in and mugging for the invisible camera like he’s been waiting his whole life for this.
Then everyone turns to look at Daisy, who’s jogged up after Lincoln. “Uh,” she says, baffled. “I’m Daisy.”
All of the strange teenagers stare at Daisy for a moment before shrugging and resuming their dance. Upon closer inspection, there’s almost no way it couldn’t be choreographed.
Once it seems to come to an end, they all burst into laughter at the same time and run off the beach together, toward a little restaurant under a couple of palm trees.
Daisy and Lincoln stare at each other for a few seconds before Daisy says, “What was that?”
Lincoln is beaming. “It’s the movie!” he says, practically jumping up and down.
Daisy gives him a look like he’s sprouted a third arm. “Explain.”
“It’s Wet Side Story! That was the very first song in the movie, that sets up all the surfers,” Lincoln says. “I don’t know how, but I think... I think we’re inside the movie!”
“Inside the movie,” Daisy deadpans. “You know how that sounds, right?”
“Well, how else do you explain that musical number?” Lincoln asks. “And that this beach is an exact replica of the one in the movie. And that they’re all wearing outfits from the sixties.”
Daisy’s quiet for a second. “I don’t know,” she says finally, throwing her arms in the air. “They’re a flash mob, with really good outfits. The point is, this isn’t our beach, how did we get here and do we get home?”
Lincoln shrugs. “I dunno. Let’s go watch the confrontation between the bikers and surfers!” He skips off toward the restaurant. Daisy sighs and, after glancing around to make sure there isn’t a convenient way out of this, follows him.
When they enter the restaurant, the door closes loudly and all of the kids - the surfers, apparently, which makes sense considering their outfits and props and they fact that they’re on a beach, but still - look up, perplexed. “Who are you?” asks the one who’s apparently called Davy. “You’re not from around here.” Several of the others all nod along.
“I’m Lincoln,” says Lincoln, “and this here’s Daisy.” He nods at Daisy.
“We’re from, uh…” Daisy glances at Lincoln before saying. “Far away.”
Unfortunately, this is at the same time he says, “Not too far.”
In a panic, they look at each other again and switch their answers. “Not too far.” “Far away!”
Crystal, the girl with the dog, looks at them in confusion. “Which one is it?”
“Far away enough, but not too far,” Lincoln says quickly. “It’s a small town. That’s why we came here, ‘cause we wanted to surf.”
“Where are your boards, then?” asks Red suspiciously.
“Outside,” Daisy says. “Didn’t want to get anything in here wet.”
Abby and Callie frown at each other, but after a moment decide it’s easier to giggle. “What are you talking about, silly?” Callie asks.
Daisy blinks, and Lincoln quickly says, “So what’s good to eat in here?”
Deke steps forward, glaring. “We’re not really keen on outsiders,” he says. “I think you two should move along.”
“Woah, okay.” Daisy raises her hands and tries to hide a laugh. “What, do you own this restaurant or something?”
“No,” Deke says. “Just not a place you two should be right now.”
About half of the surfers (mostly boys) seem to agree, while the others may or may not actually care, but it’s an overwhelming enough vibe that Daisy tugs on Lincoln’s arm and nods toward the exit. “Let’s get out of here before they get punchy,” she mutters.
Just then, they all hear the revving of engines outside, and Lincoln beams. “Later,” he says to the surfers, and pulls Daisy into a corner of the restaurant. “C’mon, I just wanna see this, it’s great.”
Daisy looks both confused and alarmed.
“Aw, nuts!” Sonny exclaims. “Those darn bikers are coming.”
“Why do they even hang out here?” Red asks. “They can’t ride their bikes on the beach, the sand would mess them all up.”
Another one of the boys, the curly-haired one named Fitz, shakes his head. “They’re an odd lot. Who knows why they do what they do.”
“I think it’s to tick us all off,” Davy declares, shaking his head.
A tall white boy wearing a leather jacket walks into the restaurant, looking around like he’s scouting out the place. “Hey!” Deke barks. “We don’t like your kind in here.”
“Seems to me,” the new boy says, in a strong British accent, “that it’s a free country and my friends and I can be anywhere I like.”
“No thanks to you,” Kara calls defiantly, then waits exactly three seconds before adding, “You know, because of the Revolutionary War.”
The British boy gives her a withering look. Then he whistles and snaps his fingers, like he’s summoning something. Within a few seconds, a group of leather-clad teenagers are swarming into the restaurant. “I think you’ll regret saying that,” he says, glancing at his friends. “Lads?”
“What is happening,” Daisy hisses, eyes wide.
“Not all of us are lads,” snaps the tallest girl, a stunning girl with strawberry blonde hair. “Even if my name is Bobbi.”
“Y’know what I mean, love,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Let’s show these losers what for, eh?”
She shrugs, almost devilishly nonchalant.
“Nobody disrespects Lance’s crew,” says the boy, whose name is apparently Lance. “Sound off, mates.”
“Robbie,” growls a boy with light brown skin and jet black hair, wearing a leather jacket with white lines down the front.
“Piper,” says an average-height girl with a brown pixie cut.
“Joey,” says a light brown skinned boy with facial hair.
“Izzy,” says a tall white girl with short brown hair.
“Idaho,” says a slightly lighter-skinned boy wearing a hat and a vest.
“Lucky,” says a dark-skinned black girl with an eyepatch.
“Mike,” says a black boy with very short hair.
There’s a dramatic pause, then a petite brunette who’s wearing pink where the other girls have red appears and sweetly announces, “And I’m Jemma.” She’s also British, although her accent is more Northern than Lance’s.
“That’s my sister,” Lance says, giving the entire room a wary look. “Don’t anybody go getting any ideas about her.”
Daisy pokes Lincoln. “They don’t even sound like they came from the same part of England,” she murmurs. “Or look alike at all. How are they siblings?”
Lincoln shrugs. “I guess they didn’t care about that when they were casting them. It was the 60s.”
“You don’t have to be like that, Lance,” Jemma murmurs, looking annoyed but sort of fondly so.
“Yeah I do. Gotta look out for you.”
Jemma sighs and goes over to the jukebox, followed by Bobbi and Piper. She starts to scroll through the songs, clearly trying to ignore the rising tension between the bikers and the surfers, and finally selects one with a satisfied smile.
“Hey, we were listening to that!” Deke shouts, looking annoyed.
“Well now you aren’t,” sneers Hunter, and snaps his fingers.
The next thing Daisy knows, everyone’s started dancing.
“Uh.” She glances at Lincoln, who is watching with rapt attention.
He grins over at her. “Isn’t this great?”
She just sighs and shakes her head. “Sure it is.”
The dance is starting to evolve into a choreographed showdown, bikers and surfers taking their turns advancing on each other while the bikers sing about violence, but in a totally charming way, obviously.
Daisy’s so busy trying to pretend like she isn’t in the middle of the most ridiculous thing she’s ever seen that she doesn’t notice that Lincoln’s heading to join the other kids until he’s already out on the dance floor. “Lincoln!” she hisses, horrified. “What are you doing?”
Lincoln’s too busy joining in on the absurd musical number to answer.
“I can’t watch this,” she sighs, walking out.